


Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love

by CyanideSun



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Poetry, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 23:33:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8773834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideSun/pseuds/CyanideSun
Summary: Deacon finally tells whisper how he feels the best way he could manage.





	

Deacon and Whisper were finally back at Red Rocket, just down from her settlement in Sanctuary. Whisper never stayed within the metaphorical walls of her old neighborhood. Deacon just assumed it was too full of bad memories, but they never talked about it. If her Minutemen needed anything, they knew where to find her, and that seemed enough.

Right now, they'd find her huddled over a cooking fire, humming a song Deacon didn't recognize while sneaking tiny pieces of what she was cooking to Dogmeat.

"What is your favorite kind of novel, Whisper?" Deacon dropped onto the ground next to his partner, his best friend, the woman he'd fallen madly in love with but could never deserve. Whisper sucked her thumb into her mouth and hummed in thought, cleaning the juice from the Brahmin meat from her finger. It was adorable and sexy and way too distracting.

"I don't know, I used to read a little of everything. I love a good classic romance, though." Dogmeat pawed at her knee, asking for another bite of stew, and Whisper obliged. She was spoiling that old mutt.

"I'm a sucker for unrequited love. Boy loves girl but girl doesn't know it. Girl loves boy, yadda yadda. Phantom of the Opera, Wuthering Heights, Don Quixote, the Peanuts comics." Whisper snorted a laugh and raised a eyebrow at him.

"Charlie Brown? Charlie Brown is about unrequited love?" Deacon grinned and nodded, leaning back onto his hands.

"Well obviously. What comic were you reading? My all time favorite is of course Romeo and Juliet, though." Whisper shook her head and raised the wooden spoon she was using to point it at Deacon.

"Nope, not letting that one by. Romeo and Juliet was not unrequited love. It was poorly executed teenage infatuation at best." Before Deacon could reply, Whisper got up and walked through the garage and into the back office of the gas station. She returned a moment later with two mostly clean bowls and a plastic dog dish.

"How can you say it wasn't unrequited? They died before anything could come of their love." Deacon picked up their argument like she'd never left.

"Because they both knew the other loved them. It's only unrequited if at least one involved party is unaware of the feelings. Like if you were in love with me, I don't know it, unrequited. Romeo and Juliet knew how the other felt. So, sorry hon but no dice. Still a classic, though." Whisper handed Deacon a bowl of stew with a warm smile that pierced him into his soul. Yeah, IF he was in love. Right.

"I miss reading. Books are so hard to come by these days. I was digging through some old boxes down in Sanctuary. I found my old copy of Pablo Neruda poems, but it was completely illegible."

"Who's that? Pablo...whatever." Deacon asked around a mouthful of tato. Whisper sighed and got that far off look she often sported when she thought about the pre war world.

"You would fit in so well back then. I wish I could take you back in time with me. You'd never want to leave." Whisper crouched down and hugged Deacon to her for a moment before standing and stretching her limbs.

"I think your husband might take issue with you dragging some guy along with you." Whisper stopped for a moment, but then simply smirked.

"We'd just dress you like a Mr. Handy. He'd never notice. Night, Dee." Whisper snapped her fingers and Dogmeat trotted along behind her as they went to bed.

It had been about a week since their conversation about old world literature, and Deacon had finally found it. It had taken almost ever favor he had accrued over the last few years, late night strategy meetings with a few pre war ghouls and searching every inch of the old library but he found it. This was how he would tell her he loved her.

They were dragging their feet up to the old gas station, Whisper looking exhausted after rescuing that kidnapped settler. She dropped onto the old couch in the garage next to the work bench, pointedly ignoring the cloud of dust. Dogmeat hopped up next to her and flopped his upper body into her lap.

Deacon could feel his heartbeat in his ears. It was now or never. If he didn't do it soon he'd chicken out. He took a seat on the floor by her feet, trying to remain nonchalant and he cleared his throat.

"I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul." He felt Whisper go rigid next to him. She pushed Dogmeat off her lap and moved back to look at Deacon, but didn't speak. He took this as a cue to keep going.

"I love you as the plant that never blooms, but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body." Deacon stood and Whisper followed wordlessly. Her eyes were wide on his face, and her lip trembled slightly. Deacon took her hands in his, cleared his throat and kept going.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this." Whisper looked about to cry, but she was smiling, so Deacon finished before he lost the nerve.

"Where I does not exist, nor you,  
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand," Whisper ran her hand across Deacon's chest gently, almost nervously. "So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep." Deacon put his hand on Whisper's cheek, brushing a tear away, and her eyes slid closed. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Deacon took his sunglasses off with the hand that wasn't stroking her cheek, and Whisper opened her eyes slowly. She froze for a moment, looking into his eyes for the first time since they officially met in those old tunnels, before destroying the Institute, before bringing down the Mechanist, before stopping the raider gangs that had taken over that old theme park. Each day that had passed had made him love her more and now she knew and what the hell had he been thinking telling her?! 

Deacon felt his body tense and his walls screamed to rebuild themselves. He felt his heartbeat in his ears again and he needed to get out.

Whisper must have felt him tense up, because she pulled him against her chest with one arm around his lower back, the other around the back of his neck. Their lips were just barely brushing.

"I love you, too." She breathed against his mouth before pressing her lips to his and it was definitely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from but here it is. I hope you like it.


End file.
